


How it could have gone

by IndigoSeal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Technology, What could have happened, alternative ending, muggle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 04:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoSeal/pseuds/IndigoSeal
Summary: Facing Voldemort is hard enough by itself. This time, it doesn’t even go remotely according to plan.





	1. The plan derails

**Author's Note:**

> Set near the end of the deathly hallows  
Trigger warnings: death (but only cannon deaths), possession, car accident  
Disclaimer: I’m not connected to Harry Potter or Warner Brothers in anyway. In fact, this fic was probably inspired by a tumblr post on some level.

Every instinct is screaming at him to run, to get away from the thing in front of him and the cult that wants him dead. Towards the safety of the castle and his friends.

Instead he awaits his fate, following the winding and twisted path Albus Dumbledore set out for him. Trusting that, despite what Rita Skeeter wrote and what Aberforth said, Dumbledore chose the method that would minimise suffering, both his and others. Trusting that his death would help his friends kill the monster in front of him, who is currently ranting about something Harry stopped listening to a long time ago. Trusting that it was all worth it.

Harry holds onto this trust with every fibre of his being. And so, when he looks into the snake like eyes of the man in front of him, he is not afraid.

The monster lifts its arm. Long white fingers, almost dainty on the elder wand, produce sparks of magic that travel from them to the tip, building enough energy to end Harry’s life in a second. His red eyes are full of vicious triumph already, as if victory is already his, and Harry is nothing but calm as he remembers the piece of soul that will die with him.

Death is close now. Harry can feel his own magic responding reflexively, desperately trying to save him against the coming curse.

As time seems to slow to a fraction of its usual speed, Harry thinks what a pity it is that the last sound he will ever hear is a symphony of death eater’s jeering, and the last thing he’ll ever see is Voldemort’s ugly face. He makes a point to focus on the treeline, beautiful in the slowly rising sun. His ears latch onto the quieter sounds; the creek trickling through the undergrowth and the unmistakeable sound of an engine, evidently from a muggle village nearby. Calming things, for a calm transition to the other side.

Wait a second...

The nearest muggle village is at least fifty miles away, whereas Hogwarts is only a few meters away. Try as he might, he can’t hear any familiar voices from the school he misses so much, despite the fact it was a hive of activity when he left it minutes before.

The sound is getting closer.

As the incantation forms on Lord Voldemort’s tongue, the source of the noise crashes through the trees in a wave of blue.

It accelerates straight for the monster, and neither Voldemort nor his death eaters have time to retaliate before it hits. The crunch of metal on bone reverberates across the clearing, as the bonnet of what Harry now recognises as a car crumples, and the Dark Lord, Mr Evil incarnate, is flung into a tree.

Voldemort, suddenly very frail and almost human looking, crumples like a discarded crisp packet on the forest floor. Harry stares at the body of the man who was about to kill him, takes in the blood and odd angles, and can only form two coherent thoughts:

One, Arthur Weasley doesn’t mess around with the quality of his experiments.

And two, not even the most feared sorcerer of all time can survive a collision with a determined Ford Anglia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I came up with the idea when I was re-watching the chamber of secrets, and it started off as a joke but morphed into something resembling a story...  
Hope you're all enjoying it :)


	2. A little problem

There is a second of complete silence. Even the car pauses, seeming to stare down at the white body as a last rattling breath forces its way into damaged lungs. Through the connection he and Voldemort share, Harry can feel the pain and anger that had never quite felt right within him fade. The moment it disappears completely, the magical sphere around Nagini flickers and goes out, and everything comes to sudden and startling life once more. 

As the great snake uncurls, Bellatrix’s furious voice screams out, rallying the death eaters to avenge their master.

And Harry is quite forcefully reminded that he is standing right in the middle of a circle of enemies.

Harry drops to the ground when the first spells come flying in his direction and crawls, army-style, towards the tree line. His way is lit up by the bright lights crisscrossing above him, in a firework display that leaves the air smelling like magic and sulphur. He is conscious of how exposed he is like this; surrounded by enemies and with a weapon he can’t use, but can feel poking his ribs with every shuffle on the forest floor from where he stuffed it earlier.

A particularly bright and loud curse heads straight towards him. Harry makes a desperate dive towards the trees, turning just in time to see the gold sting of magic hit the ground where he used to be, showering him with dirt and dust but somehow leaving him unscathed. It gives him the perfect opportunity to run, to get a head start large enough to potentially make it back, but a sinking feeling in his gut makes him pause. There are two horcruxes left- him and the snake- and both of them are in this very clearing. Harry doesn’t know much about how exactly horcuxes work, but he’s about ninety percent sure Voldemort would need them to come back to life. Maybe, if he kills the snake and then he, well,  _ dies_, the tyrant will stay dead. Harry rubs at his scar, which has been notably calm ever since Voldemort was hit by the car. He will think about the second part of his plan once the snake is dead.

Very much against his better judgement, Harry ducks behind a tree, rips his outer robe off and finally grasps the wand like the lifeline it is. He quickly puts up a shield, the stolen wand cooperative for once as if sensing it’s an emergency, and sets about trying to find the snake before Voldemort can return using it.

He shudders. He does not want to think about that part either.

From the light of the stray spells, Harry can make out enough to tell that the clearing is in absolute chaos.

Most of the death eaters are clustered around Voldemort’s corpse, attempting some sort of reviving spell or else looking lost. Bellatrix is among them, screaming at those attempting to save her master.

Others attempt to tackle the car, in a scene which Harry would under most circumstances find absolutely hilarious. The Death Eaters have formed a line of shield charms, glowing in the darkened clearing, and edge carefully closer to the car, wands outstretched. As the car turns on a break light, half of them squeal and duck away, yelling obscenities. They’re so completely out of their depth that Harry just wishes they’d thought about using muggle technology against them in the first place. Like a tank, or a machine gun.

A few are aiming for Harry, firing spell after spell at the slowly settling dust. Some spells look as if they could be deadly, by the way branches splinter and the tang of magic fills the forest air, but so far they’re missing him by meters.

He is in the process of looking for the snake, when Bellatrix looks up from her master's corpse and meets his eyes.

“YOU!!” She screams, jumping to her feet and ripping her wand out of the holster. The death eaters that were so far doing an awful job at killing him cease their firing at once. “What beast did you set on my master?!” She hisses as she stalks towards him, her hair a tangled cloud above narrowed eyes and spit flying from her mouth as she speaks “I will torture you until you are begging me to kill you, I will skin your worthless halfblood body alive, I will kill your beast and then kill you.” her voice takes on a savage sort of triumph, and Harry can’t help but feel a little bit terrified as an angry crackle of energy snaps the tree in two and travels straight through his shield towards his heart. He dives away, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach as he realises there is no way he will be able to dodge such a blow, readying himself once more for death.

The curse hits, but he doesn’t die: instead, pain spreads from his torso, rippling out waves of agony that leave him convulsing on the ground.

Through the haze of pain and black spots clouding his vision, Harry finally finds the snake. She is slithering through the undergrowth, aiming out of the clearing, as if following directions from an outside source.

With a shaking hand, Harry aims a stunning spell at the snake, knowing full well it will be completely useless.

“That wasn’t even kind of close” Bellatrix gloats, looming above him in a way that reminds Harry of a dementor “does ickle Harry not know how to use a wand? Is that why he hires others to- Ach“

There is a loud thump, and Bellatrix’s back arches almost comically when she is flung over Harry’s prone body.

Her figure is replaced by that of the car, whose headlights are positioned in such a way that it almost looks exasperated at him. Feeling strangely as if he’s just been scolded, Harry forces his way to his feet once more.

“Um... thank you... car. For saving-“

A loud honk stops his spiel mid-sentence and he reflexively freezes. A split second later a spell skims his forehead and, a few moments after that, curly locks of hair float onto the forest floor like feathers. He lifts a shaking hand to the left of his head, feeling tender skin and more handfuls of hair.

“Merlin... thanks for that too” Harry manages shakily. The car makes a sound a lot like a tut and the back door closest to him opens with pop. He gets the hint this time, climbing quickly in.

The door slams and the car accelerates before he’s even fully seated, and it takes all his strength just to stay upright.

“Wait! The snake! We need to kill it!” Harry yells above the engine. The car splutters indignantly but turns around, speeding expertly around the branches and trees as if it has completed this route a thousand times.

“There” He shouts, pointing at an outline that looks vaguely serpent like. The car lets out a huff of annoyance, which Harry ignores.

Without warning, the Ford Anglia accelerates, aiming straight for a dark blob that is definitely not the moving outline from earlier. The momentum throws Harry back against the seat, shocking him enough that he doesn’t have time to cry out a warning before the car meets the blob.

When the expected collision doesn’t come, he opens his eyes. They’re moving, but as all Harry can see out of the front window are fading stars and a slowly lightening sky, it takes him a moment to orientate himself. The car seems to have used the blob, which is a fallen tree judging by the outline, as a ramp. The car then confirms his suspicions; it turns sharply, flies for a moment, and then lands heavily on the ground with a resounding thud.

Harry is still recovering from the whiplash and marvelling at the fact he survived all that without a seatbelt, when the ground literally comes to life beneath them. The car tilts alarmingly from side to side, and Harry is flung around like a rag doll

A serpentine head appears in Harry’s field of vision, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense. Whilst sentient forest floor is not impossible- he’s in a sentient car for Merlin’s sake- it did seem a bit unlikely.

And then it hits Harry that a Ford Anglia managed to land on a moving Nagini in the dark. He doesn’t have time to congratulate it before the car finds some sort of traction, and they are moving once more.

The car reverses onto the snake, and accelerates once more, slowly running the snake further into the ground. The snake lets out an annoyed noise, lifting a fanged mouth to slash at the car windscreen.

“Sectumsempra!” Harry yells, slashing his wand. Large wounds open on the snakes head, and then immediately begin to heal. The snake didn’t even stop pounding on the windshield.

“Oh right. Horcrux. Fuck. Car, we need the sword. I think we should go back now before the death eaters find us and kill us.”

The car makes it clear that it has no intention of leaving by sighing theatrically and continuing to reverse onto the snake.

“Car! I repeat, we must abort mission!” Harry says, panicking now at the sight of a growing crack in the glass from the snakes fangs.

As he says this, however, the snakes movements become more notably more and more sluggish.

“What the...” Harry gapes as the snake keels over, dead. “Car, you’ve got to tell me how you do that!”

The car lets out a quiet beep that sounds a little bit like an amused snort. It reverses one final time over the corpse, and makes to move once more.

Harry still hasn’t stopped gaping when a single death eater crashes through the trees beside them, notices the car and immediately puts his hands in the air. Harry feels like doing the same thing. 

The car ignores the man, instead aiming straight for the clearing before Harry can ask it not to, heading right back into Death Eater Territory. 

The moment it crashes through the trees, most of the Death Eaters start sprinting for the hills, and the cloaked figures that remain part hastily to let them through. If it weren’t for Bellatrix, who regretfully looks unharmed, standing in the middle, shouting after them or the spells that hit the window, Harry would feel like Royalty.

At the last minute, Harry remembers Hagrid at the other end of the clearing. A sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry turns in his seat, wand outstretched and ready to at least free him from the chains that bound him.

It takes a moment to find where Hagrid once was, the tree distinguishable only by a hint of silver that reflects the light of the moon. On closer inspection, Harry confirms that they are the remains of two chains. They hang, limp and attached to nothing, almost as if a particularly strong force ripped the magically enforced links wide open. Harry grins- it seems Grawp beat him to it.

The car reaches the opposite end of the clearing unobstructed, with only a couple of more cracks in the glass from stray spells. Harry can just about make out lights from the castle, from _home_, when Bellatrix’s magically magnified voice sounds throughout the forest.

“You actually think that’s the end of him?” The witch cackles, sounding even more crazy in loud speaker “You’re all piteous excuses for death eaters. The dark lord will rise once more!”

His scar twinges slightly with her words, and Harry can’t help but agree.


	3. The research squad

The car dumps him right by the gate of the castle.

The next step of his two-point plan was to kill himself, or at least let himself die, but Harry really does not want to do that. As a nagging voice in his head keeps pointing out, if there is a way to kill one soul but not the other in his body, Hermione would know it.

Besides, he really wants to see his friends. Even if it’s for them to tell him he needs to die.

He takes an eager step towards the castle, but then pauses. The last crazy hour catches up to him, and it suddenly hits him that the last piece of the wizard who terrorised the people inside the castle is literally inside him, attached to his soul in wherever souls are kept.

He is a walking time bomb, where any minute Voldemort’s tattered soul could jump out and reform. Well, that’s what he imagines would happen anyway. He’s pretty sure he’s the first ever recorded carrier of a second soul, so it’s very much uncharted territory.

What if Voldemort takes over his body? What if it’s some sort of battle for the dominant soul? What if Voldemort possesses him and starts killing people? What if Voldemort has already possessed him and that’s why he thinks this is a good idea?

His mouth goes dry- he can’t do this. He should have made more of an effort to let himself die, but for some reason the car kept saving him.

Said car drives slowly towards him and gives him a gentle nudge towards the castle entrance with the crumpled bonnet. Harry startles at the contact, the metal ice cold against his skin. The car gives a small huff, as if chiding him for loitering.

“Thing is, car, I could be endangering them all” he says in a small voice.

The car doesn’t have time to reassure him, or more likely roll its headlights at him, before the door opens and light pools out.

“... we’re still looking for Eli Broadwidth, Leah Mason and Amy Leong” Oliver Wood’s voice floats out of the door along with the sound of heavy footfall “well, they’re the ones that were definitely fighting. We don’t know how many kids there are out here” he sighs

“And Harry of course” Neville’s voice says brazenly.

“... Look, Neville. The fact we’ve had almost an hour and a half of relief from the onslaught means he probably went to you-know-who. I’m sorry.” Oliver’s voice has a long suffering tone to it that suggests he’s said this all before.

“Don’t be Oliver, I’m right here” Harry calls from the steps before he loses his nerve. The two men gasp in unison.

“Harry?! Thank Merlin you’re alive! Everyone was worried sick! How could you go off on your own like that?” Oliver scolds him, whilst Neville runs over and hugs him.

“Please tell me you didn’t go into the forest, you noble idiot” Neville says with a pained expression, drawing back to an arm’s length away to survey his reaction.

“I’m alive aren’t I” Harry says with a forced cheeriness, very obviously avoiding the question.

“Harry...” Neville says warningly.

“Leave the mothering for Mrs Weasley, Neville” Harry laughs, even though he’s a little touched by the duo’s obvious concern for him.

“Well I guess I should even by happy you’re alive.” Neville concedes “Wait... how are you alive?”

“It’s a long story, but I promise I’ll tell you it later, when I have more time,” Harry says, looking back at the battered Anglia. Oliver gives a pointed cough. “Both of you of course!”

“Okay,” Neville says, voice strong and trusting, despite everything he’s been through, “what do you need us to do?”

Harry takes a deep breath.

“I have to find Ron and Hermione. There is... there is one more thing I have to do.”

The car gives a soft hoot of apparent agreement. Both Neville and Oliver look at the car in confusion, but decide not to comment. There are enough strange things happening at the moment that a sentient car isn’t that weird.

“Are you sure you’re okay Harry? You look like you’ve been beaten up,” Neville asks him, as he leads the way to the great hall. Oliver stayed behind to hunt for the rest of the missing people.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking though,” Harry sighs, running a hand through his interestingly styled hair. He’s surprised no one has commented on it yet, but maybe the rest of his appearance is so bad it doesn’t seem that noticeable in comparison.

“You also look quite worried. I get it. There are so many good people who died tonight already- it’s hard to even look at them. Not to mention their families. But people will be so happy to see you alive it will be worth it,” Neville smiles sadly. And then catches sight of Harry’s face “Or should I get Ron and Hermione to come out?”

“That would be great Neville” Harry says in relief, picturing the scene his reappearance would cause and all the questions, all that would use up time that could be spent killing Voldemort for good, “I promise I’ll tell everyone as soon as I’m finished. Just on a limited time schedule”

“Makes sense. Just wait here, I’ll be out in a second” Neville slips into the hall, casting a reassuring look back at Harry.

For a second or two the door is open, and Harry can’t help but peek inside. The atmosphere has changed since he was last there, when he was mourning the loss of his friends with no idea that he had to die. Back then there were tears and moans of pain and panicking parents. Now, the survivors are stoic. They know more or less their loved ones fates, but not their own. They are slowly processing what has happened.

The door shuts in his face, fanning him with a gust of air, and Harry retreats. A part of him wants to go in to offer whatever comfort he can, but the knowledge of the soul inside him stops that.

The door opens again, with even more vigour than it shut with. Someone comes flying towards him, all puffy hair and warm eyes, and embraces him in a hug bigger than Neville’s.

She is immediately followed by Ron, his normally lanky body looking tenser than usual despite the warm smile gracing his features.

“Tough night?” Harry says with a sympathetic grimace towards Ron’s tensed shoulders and bloodshot eyes. He can’t make out much of Hermione’s appearance due to how tightly she’s hugging him, but he can’t imagine it’s much better.

“Tough night?! Of course it’s a tough night! You went missing for over forty five minutes and we were all certain you’d sacrificed yourself! Without saying goodbye” Hermione says shrilly, pulling out of the hug to glare at him with exhausted eyes. She punches him on the arm for good measure. 

“Yeah. That bit wasn’t cool mate. What happened to ‘we’re in this together’? You’re going to kill us! I’m going to get grey hair before I’m twenty, I swear to Merlin” Ron adds on, looking as if he’s blinking back tears. 

Harry quickly scans the empty corridor- he was so distracted, he must have missed Neville leaving. He lowers his voice anyway. “Look, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. But I was sure that you would convince me not to go just by being there and I needed to go!” He tries desperately “I looked at the memories Snape gave me and found out that some of Voldemort’s soul went into me when I was a baby. I’m the eighth horcrux.” Harry pauses, partly to allow them to process it and partly for dramatic effect. Apart from some swearing from Ron and widened eyes from Hermione, there is not a whole lot of reaction.

“Okay, that is a little anticlimactic, considering you’re just finding out your best friend has had part of the soul of an evil wizard inside him all his life, but whatever” Harry grins at them.

“Oh shut up Harry. We’re trying to listen” Ron says, rolling his eyes

“So I went to the forest-“

“Of course he did” Ron mutters

“And,” Harry continues, slightly louder, pretending not to have heard that “I was facing him when your Dad’s car killed Voldemort and the snake. So I’m the only horcrux left”

“Um... can you repeat that, slower. I must have misheard you” Ron says after a few seconds of shocked silence.

“Voldemort attacked. Car attacked before he could kill me. Main Voldemort died. Bellatrix about to kill me, torturing etc. Bellatrix attacked by car but doesn’t die. I go in car. Car runs over and somehow kills Nagini. Drive away. Now I’m here.” He repeats in a monotone

“Harry what in Merlins name have you been taking from Professor Sprout?” Hermione asks incredulously, as Ron starts to laugh. Seeing that no one else is joining in, and noticing Harry’s expression, he quickly sobers up.

“Wait. The car? From our second year? It’s still there? And running? What? How?” Ron manages “and you’re saying it killed you-know-who? Just like that?! And it’s definitely not a joke? Not even a tiny bit of exaggeration?”

Harry shakes his head.

“Wow. I need to thank my dad” Ron says in a weak voice.

“Look, I need help. And it’s all true! But I don’t know what to do! What if he possesses me Hermione?! I’ve got the last piece of him INSIDE ME” Harry exclaims.

“That sounds wrong mate” Ron winces.

“Ronald-“ Hermione scolds but is cut off by Harry’s laugh, which is a little too loud given the context. She mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “boys” but otherwise looks relieved, even going so far as casting a grateful look at her... friend? Boyfriend? Harry doesn’t know anymore.

“Wait... you two kissed” Harry says smugly. To Harry’s delight, both of them blush hotly.

“And what about it?” Ron asks defiantly, his bold stance and jutted chin a little less effective when coupled with the bright red ears.

“I was just going to say ‘about time’” Harry puts placating hands up

“You said it wasn’t the time, remember?” Hermione says reasonably.

“Well we’re not in the middle of a literal war this time, after months even years of pining, and... oh. Fuck. I almost forgot.”

“Right, horcrux. Harry. I say to the library?” Hermione is suddenly all business.

“When do you not?” Harry mimics her tone but follows her advice anyway, as per usual. Hermione swats at him as they walk up the slightly demolished staircase.

“That should be his new nickname. Horcrux Harry. Has a ring to it. I was getting bored of the ‘chosen one’” Ron muses.

“You call me ‘horcrux Harry’ and I will turn the car on you” Harry threatens playfully.

The top of the staircase isn’t much better- all smashed pillars and empty pedestals and occasional blood stains they all take pains to avoid looking at too long.

“Why did it save you? I thought it hated us” Ron asks, seemingly out of the blue. Harry is pretty sure he knows what Ron is doing- desperately trying to distract himself from a reality Harry can only ever imagine. The closest Harry has ever gotten to a brother is Ron, and he doesn’t know how he would react if anything happened to him. He still hasn’t even fully processed what happened to Fred and-

“I don’t know” Harry answers, just as desperate to stop that particular train of thought.

“Maybe it just hated you?” Hermione says innocently, batting her eyelids at Ron’s scowl in such an uncharacteristic gesture that they all laugh.

“Nah. It saved me from the spiders remember” Ron says confidently once they’ve all recovered, helping Hermione over the remains of a knight.

“... it saved me too?” Harry points out, taking Ron’s outstretched hand and jumping over the knight too.

“Hmm... maybe it was just annoyed at us then?”

“Obviously forgave us” Harry scoffs.

“Of course!”

Hermione rolls her eyes at them “Guys can you focus? Harry, your life is in danger and Ron... your best friend’s life is in danger!”

“Right... how do we kill the bit of Voldemort inside me?”

“I don’t know! That’s why we’re going to the library” Hermione admits. And just like that, Harry realises how unreasonable he is being. If Dumbledore couldn’t think of a better way, who’s to say they will?

“Look, you guys.” Harry stops and takes a deep breath. The other two suddenly look apprehensive, stopping with him. “About why I went to the forest...”

“To face Voldemort?”

“To get it over with.”

Ron and Hermione say at the same time. They look at each other in surprise.

“Well... no. I went to die. To kill the bit of Voldemort, and getting Voldemort to do it was important somehow” Harry says, stepping back in preparation for any explosion.

“....WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK HARRY; YOU WERE GOING TO DIE!!!!!” Hermione screeches, advancing on him angrily. Harry takes another fraction of a step back- in the whole seven years he has known her, she has hardly ever sworn. “I’M SERIOUS HARRY! WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS?? IT’S AWFUL” She all but shakes him.

“You really have to tell us these things” Ron says weakly.

“Dumbledore’s! And Snape’s” Harry says quickly, gulping at looks in his friends eyes.

“YOU TRUSTED WHAT YOU SAW IN THE PENSIVE? AND DIDN’T CHECK?” She yells, so loudly the fragile marble shakes.

“I know memories can be made up and altered Hermione, believe me! But I was- am- sure!! He was working with Dumbledore! Trust me on this please” Harry is surprised to find himself close to tears, unsure how that happened.

Hermione deflates, managing a small “okay.” Ron places a comforting hand over her shoulders.

Hermione’s head shoots up as something else seems to occur to her. “Wait... why did you come back? You.. you don’t want us to... to kill you right?”

“Nope. No, no, no. No. Harry I love you, but I can’t do that for you. Ask me anything else.” Ron says backing away.

“I-I'm not sure. Not necessarily. I was hoping there may be a way. Now that he’s dead. A way for me to survive” Harry says, watching his feet.

“We could go to the ministry?” Ron suggests halfheartedly.

“Half of them are on Voldemort’s side Ron” Hermione says, biting her lip anxiously.

“Now that You-Know-Who the physical is dead...”

“It’ll take weeks until they’re stable enough to handle it... the temptation for the supporters is too much”

“McGonagall? My Mum and Dad?” Ron suggests, desperate now.

“Maybe? It’ll take some explaining and they’re no more experts than we are, maybe even less-“

“I’M NOT LOSING ANOTHER BROTHER!” Ron all but yells. “Not one I can do something about anyway.”

“Ron, come here. Whatever happens, I won’t blame you” Harry says gently, touched by the outburst.

“That doesn’t mean I want to lose you” Ron sniffs, coming over to hug him.

“Okay, you’re right. Of course you’re right. I’ll call them. Carry on, the library is right there.” Hermione sighs

“No, I’ll go. You’re better at this kind of stuff anyway” Ron says, slowly detaching himself from Harry. “Be careful. Both of you.”

“I’ll try not to get possessed” Harry says dryly. He gets a punch from each side for that comment.

They separate, Ron winding back through the debris and Harry and Hermione walking the last few feet towards the library, oddly silent. 

He can almost hear his friend's massive brain busy whirring away, attacking the problem Harry has shared with her.

He is trying to think as well, but keeps getting distracted by a complicated mixture of emotions. Warmth and gratitude towards his friends for not leaving him to fight this on his own, guilt for holding onto a fragile hope at the possible expense of others. That fragile hope in amongst a sea of hopelessness. Merlin, he hasn't felt so much at once since he was 15, and that was not a good year.

They reach the library, skirting around the remains of the two boar statues that used to guard the door. Harry goes to place a hand on the doorknob, when Hermione catches his elbow with a disapproving glare.

"There might be someone inside, or it might be cursed!" 

Harry blinks at her "Hermione... " He says slowly "all the Death Eaters were in the forest..."

"Still! You never know" She says, and Harry gives up and lets her cast her spells.

Finally, she gives him a nod of approval. He opens the door, half expecting to see the library completely demolished with just a drop down onto the grounds below.

Instead, it’s pristine. The book shelves are in perfect order, the chairs all neatly arranged around their desks. In comparison to the corridor outside, with the burns, stains and rubble from the hole in the ceiling, it’s almost too good to be true.

They don’t have to ponder the mystery for long.

“GET OUT OF MY LIBRARY!!! I DO NOT CARE THAT THERE IS A WAR, I HAVEN’T SEEN ANYONE, BUT I WILL NOT HESITATE TO MURDER YOU IF YOU MESS UP MY DISPLAYS!!” Madame Pince, wearing the same robe as always and an angrier version of her signature pissed-off expression, yells from the desk.

Hermione recovers from the shock first. “Um... sorry to bother you, but we need to do some research-“

“What did I tell you girl? OUT!” The Madam raises her hand threateningly, and a gust of wind starts blowing them out of the door

“You can’t kick us out! We are here to research, not destroy anything.” Harry yells, not sure how much the librarian can hear above the wind. Hermione stumbles beside him, from a mixture of the sheer velocity of wind and the amount of hair obscuring her vision. He reaches out and grabs her hand before she can fall, pulling her away from the door.

Hermione spits the hair out of her mouth and raises her wand. A swish of the wood later and a shield snaps into place against the wind. She looks angry; nostrils flared and eyes bright.

“We are here to save lives and read books. So if you do not get out of our way, I will... I will make you get out of our way!”

The wind slows.

“Just let us in.” Harry advises. The wind stops completely. Both their hair even more of a mess, the two teenagers blink rapidly against the suddenly still air.

The librarian purses her lips “What subject?”

“Any books on Horcruxes, soul theory or afterlife” Hermione says coolly

The librarian assesses them, and nods once. A bony hand waves an ancient looking wand, and several books start to fly towards them from different shelves.

“After all the chaos of earlier, I am very glad to see some youngsters who actually want the library to study” she sniffs “We don’t have any on horcruxes. Dumbledore removed them long ago. But we do have some on the soul and afterlife. Do you have a note signed by a teacher?”

“Oh come on!” Harry exclaims, sounding a bit hysterical even to his own ears, “half the teachers are dead for crying out loud!”

Madam Pince puts bony hands on her hips “Young man, do you want my expertise or not?”

Hermione and Harry give her identical flat stares.

“I’m not giving you the books until you have a note signed by a teacher! They are from the _restricted_ _section_” Madam Pince repeats shrilly “and if you don’t have one, you can get out!”

Harry takes one look at the librarian, and feels completely lost.

The vulture-like woman somehow managed to single handedly keep the advancing death eaters away in the name of her books, so Harry doesn’t think she’ll budge for some pathetic looking teenagers, chosen one or not. But he really doesn’t want to be beaten now.

Hermione is still arguing with her, hands flailing and voice getting shriller and shriller but Harry doesn’t think the words are getting through to her.

To round it all off, his scar twinges again, painfully.

Hermione also looks as if she has a headache. “Okay. Okay. You unreasonable bitch. Here is what is going to happen. Me and Harry are going to get the books and study without the note from a teacher. Then, you are going to ignore us. And we will not attack you. Fair?”

Pince bristles. “Absolutely not young-“

The door bursts open behind them.

Harry and Hermione whip around to see the third member of their little trio, blinking rapidly in the light from the library windows. 

Ron holds the door open, and people, _help_, come pouring through. First, limping with a cane but looking grim and determined, is Kingsley Shacklebolt. An actual qualified leader, rather than a teenager with a mission.

Next, McGonagall walks in, her grey hair free from her bun and framing her face as she scans the scene in front of her. One of the most intelligent people he knows, come to help.

Getting adults was the best idea ever.

“Irma, for goodness sake, I am here in person. Is that enough for you to give the young lady the books?” McGonagall snaps at the librarian, guessing correctly what was going on.

“They want books from the restricted section” Pince puffs out her chest in indignation

McGonagall gives the librarian a stern look over her spectacles. “Okay. I’ll take out the books Miss Granger has asked for.”

Madame Pince doesn’t even wince. She almost seems immune to the disappointed look, which Harry believes is damming evidence that the witch is not human.

“Fine. Here, Professor. And be careful of the _children_” she points to Harry and Hermione ”they really want them. And these two books are first editions.” She says the last sentence as if it will mean something to them

“Will do.” McGonagall dismisses her.

“Harry!” Mrs Weasley bustles towards him, embracing him in a hug tight enough to crack his spine. “I am so happy you are all okay, we assumed the worst...”

“Ron tells us you went to the forest” Mr Weasley adds, popping up beside her, worry lines etched onto a face that looks like it has aged twenty years in the last day.

“Ah yeah... about that...”

He is rescued by Kingsley

“Arthur, give the boy a break. He can tell us his story later. Your son did say they needed help killing Voldemort, and that is our priority now” He says in a slow rolling voice, placing a hand on Mr Weasley’s shoulder.

Harry nods his thanks, ignoring the expectant look in Kingley's eyes in favour of looking around the library.

The crowd is larger than Harry expected or needs. Students, parents, teachers and random shop keepers of Hogsmede enter the circular room, wands outstretched as if expecting to get attacked at any moment.

Each and every person looks battered, and each and every person carries wounds deeper than can be seen. Every so often, tired eyes that have been all cried out meet his, and a flicker of hope appears deep within them.

Waves of guilt wash over him. He’s nothing more than a selfish fraud, a body keeping the last fragment of the tyrant alive.

Hermione’s hand slips into his, startling him out of his thoughts. She smiles at him.

Harry finds Ron in the crowd. He mouths something to Harry that looks a bit like ‘I panicked’, gesturing towards the sheer number of people.

For some reason, this also comforts him.

He is distracted again by the sounds of someone dropping something heavy on a desk, and Pince’s indignant spluttering. “’The theories of the souls inside us’? ‘What magic has told us about the afterlife’? ‘Multiple personalities inside a single person- an autobiography’?” McGonagall reads, her voice becoming more and more incredulous “I thought you wanted curses, not theories.”

The crowd in front of him look as if they are wondering the same thing.

“Strange place to bring a fight, the library” Ernie Macmillan shouts above the murmurs from the back of the room. It seems there has been some miscommunication. 

Harry clears his throat “Um, so I was wondering… if anyone knew, perhaps, a way to remove a piece of soul from a body and kill it?” Well, that's one way to get to the point.

The crowd looks very confused.

“Let’s start from the beginning. Um, Voldemort- _yes, we can say the name now_” Hermione says tiredly when the room gasps. “well, he made horcruxes…”

As Hermione explains their predicament, Harry can’t help but wonder if they’re doing the right thing. Dumbledore said to keep it quiet, and he’d always assumed that was to stop Voldemort from finding out what they know and taking precautions. But as he sees the occasional face light up or a hungry look enter someone’s eyes, he wonders if this sort of magic should just be kept quiet. Full stop.These were the fighters, the good people. What would the snakes at the Ministry do with the information that they could become immortal?

Were they creating another Voldemort?

Harry shakes his head. Now is not the time.

“… and now that Voldemort and Nagini are dead, there is still one final horcrux, one Voldemort accidently made when he disappeared. The one in, well, Harry.” There are gasps, and suddenly people are backing away from them. Harry doesn’t know why they’re so surprised- he thought they made it quite obvious.

“We don’t want to kill Harry, but we want to kill V-Voldemort. Suggestions?” Ron adds from a few feet away, causing the few people around him to jump.

Slughorn, who has until now looked guilty, shifts awkwardly. “The only way I can think of to kill a soul is-“

Ron cuts him off. “That suggestion has been banned.” Hermione nods feverishly.

There are a few questions, but no more suggestions. With each passing moment, the sympathy directed his way intensifies. His hope of a solution diminishes and part of Harry just wants everyone but Ron and Hermione to leave.

“Well, we better get researching then” Hermione says in a falsely bright voice. But even Harry can tell that she is scared.

His scar begins to throb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up splitting this chapter up in to two parts- it turned out a little longer than I expected. Hope you all liked it :)


	4. Read it and Weep

Hermione gets to work quickly, handing everyone a book and taking the ones on Horcruxes from her small beaded handbag, much to Pince’s disgust.

She’s busy going through what they should look out for when Harry’s scar stops hurting all together.

It’s a strange sensation- a sudden lack of pain where there was once a consistent dull ache, punctuated by the occasional throbbing. It was the type of pain that you get used to, only noticing it when it’s gone.

A wave of freedom and relief courses through him. And underneath that, unease.

He wants to believe that, somehow, the horcrux in him has died. Maybe it’s like when Voldemort tried to possess him at the Ministry, and could not deal with the sensation of love. At least, that was Dumbledore’s theory.

But people can’t die from _love_, can they?

But Voldemort isn’t really a person.

“Harry, are you okay?” Hermione is suddenly in front of him, all wide eyed concern. Behind her, people are moving and the tables are levitating together and the chairs are rearranging and Pince is shouting and it’s all a little much. It takes him a second to focus on her question.

“Yeah, um… My scar. It stopped hurting.”

“That’s good isn’t it?” She sounds about as uncertain as he feels.

“I don’t know. It usually means he isn’t close or angry, but… I don’t know”

“Well, whatever it is, tell me if anything changes.”

“I will. Oh and… knock me out. If anything does happen. I give you my blessing” He gives a strained smile, “I give you my blessing to go further actually, but you know that.”

“Don’t start talking like that, please. You have to have faith. Now get to work, here ‘who am I- what magic can tell us’.”

She’s biting her lip, so Harry does as he’s told without making a fuss. The library is quiet now, just a few murmured conversations and the sounds of chairs scraping across the floor.

Hermione slides into the chair next to him, and together they open their books.

_Contents_

_Chapter 1: My journey into self-discovery_

_Chapter 2: Why self-discovery is so important_

_Chapter 3: What is the self?_

On and on, through meandering topics that don’t look very promising but could, potentially, have something. It’s that ‘potentially’ that gets him- there might be the information in here that saves him, but it’s so well hidden he probably is going to have to read it all.

Well, he better get started then. Chapter three it is.

Beside him, Hermione has already filled half a square of parchment with notes and ideas, her brows furrowed in concentration. Harry hastily starts to read.

Ten minutes later, all that can be heard is the scrape of pages being turned, and the sound of Hermione standing abruptly every so often to disappear into the shelves, parchment in hand, trailed by an anxious looking Pince.

Harry’s chapter is so mind-numbing. Every word sends him deeper into an abyss of hopeless self-pity. The sympathetic glances directed his way don’t help at all.

He massages his forehead. A headache, that for once isn’t originating in his scar, has started. His eyes scan the room, full of the frowning and focused people who are trying to help him. It all feels so… pointless.

And then his gaze fixes on Ginny.

She looks wearier; ugly purple smudges beneath dull eyes and frown lines so deep they look as if they have been carved there. The tragedy that struck her family is taking its toll on her.

And yet, Harry can’t help but be entranced by her.

Harry wants to tell her that he understands, as much as someone who has never walked in shoes anywhere near hers can understand. And that he will be there for her, now and always, to support her in whatever way he can. Unless he dies today.

Right. That’s why now isn’t the time.

Ginny’s face lights up at something she reads, her tired eyes bright with a hint of their former sparkle. “Hermione, you know how Harry is a horcrux?” She calls across the room.

“Hmmm” Hermione hums, for once in her seat and focused intensely on the page in front of her.

“Does that mean he is technically invincible? Only the sword of Gryffindor could kill him?”

“Um.. no? It wasn’t intentional. He doesn’t have the protection ritual stuff performed on him.”

“Harry, you’re a crap horcrux”

Harry sticks his tongue out at her, and she sticks her tongue out right back.

He missed her. He really did.

Five minutes later, and everyone is looking about as restless as he feels. Harry has been half eyeing the window, wondering if he would die if he jumped. And how he could time it so none of his friends saw him.

His scar doesn’t hurt exactly, but it’s tingling now. Hermione had just bit her lip once more until it drew blood and said she didn’t know what it meant either.

“Harry, m’boy.” Slughorn sighs over the rustling and page turning. In the first time since Harry has met him, the man seems genuine. “I had one idea; you make a horcrux of… you-know-who and destroy it. However” he clears his throat “according to ‘a complete guide to dark personal magic’, making a horcrux has a really low success rate for… that. It says the cracks and separations form at random when making them, so chances are you’d end up with most of Voldemort’s soul still there. I’m really sorry but-”

“DON’T” Ron snaps “there is a way, even if it’s not your way. So do something useful mate, and keep searching.”

He sighs again, “I will, Mr Weasley”

Hermione strides forwards until she is face to face with Slughorn “Show me the passage”

“Certainly, my girl. But I don’t think you’ll be able to-“

“Show me.”

He wisely places the book in her hands.

“Chapter 2, section C”

Hermione drops wordlessly into the closest available seat and starts to read, a frown etched onto her forehead.

No, he definitely can’t let them see. It was a stupid idea coming back here- he was right the first time. It makes it so much harder, seeing the people he loves and how much they care about him.

It has been twenty minutes since the research party began, and there have been no further leads.

Most people have come around to Harry’s way of thinking. They’re just trying to convince Hermione and the Weasley’s to see it the same way.

Ernie MacMillan is first, putting his book down and staring gravely around the table until people start to notice.

“Look, I don’t think there is another way. I’m sorry Harry. The longer we spend ‘reading’, the stronger you-know-who could get, and I’m sorry but we can’t fight another war. We are so close to this all being over-”

Ginny cuts him off “And why are we so close to it all being over? BECAUSE HARRY KILLED VOLDEMORT AND THE SNAKE, THAT’S WHY. We owe it to him.”

Hermione had neglected the car in her tale, it did seem far-fetched, but now Harry shifts awkwardly.

“A lot of people did a lot for the cause! That doesn’t mean we put everyone in danger for them!”

“You two-faced piece of-“

“Miss Weasley, Mr MacMillan, please calm down. We are all- mostly- adults here.” Kingsley talks over them, his deep voice carrying over the squabbling. “Mr Potter, how are you feeling?”

Harry startles. “Um… fine mostly. My scar stopped hurting a while ago, but we don’t know what that means”

“Your case is unique Mr Potter, no one knows what it means. Keep an eye on it, okay?”

“Yes sir”

Everyone settles back into their research after that. Ernie and a few others look as if they're about to protest, but Ginny keeps glaring at them until they drop it.

Just when the silence becomes natural once more, Ron’s excited voice echoes through the library.

“Wait, Hermione, didn’t you say something about ‘horcruxes being completely dependent on the container’? What if Harry goes into a coma, and stops using magic! Then, the soul will not be able to live, as it’s reliant on Harry.”

“The soul isn’t just reliant on his magic. It uses his life force I’m afraid, Mr Weasley” McGonagall tells him gently “I’m sure there is a way. We’ve only been looking for twenty minutes.”

Hermione, however, jumps to her feet. For once, she looks as if she has actual tangible hope, and Harry can’t help but latch onto it.

Ron looks hopefully up at her “Please tell me you know spells that can revive the dead”

“No, but I just need to check something. I may have an idea, I need to research it”

With that, she grabs her wand and sprints out of the room.

“HERMIONE! YOU’RE IN THE LIBRARY! WHERE ELSE DO YOU RESEARCH BUT A LIBRARY?” Ron shouts after her “blimey; do you think she’s finally gone crazy?”

“QUIET! You know I can still kick you out? Even if there are members of staff present!” Pince scolds.

Ron’s expression is a picture.

When Hermione hasn’t returned for a while, the table becomes restless once more. Harry in particular can feel himself spiralling again- Ernie and the three people who dared to speak out after him and face Harry’s family were right. He is being so selfish.

He has a family- that was his greatest desire at one point and he got one; a loving red-haired family, and friends that mean the world to him. His life is almost complete, if only it got to be a little longer.

He just needs to die.

He needs to tell them first. They can’t stop him, not really, but at least they can say goodbye. He owes that to them after they spent the last half an hour or so looking for any way to save him. Even if it will make it that much more difficult for him.

Part of him wants to wait for Hermione to come back, but deep down he knows that that is just another excuse, a way he can prolong it. The tingling in his scar seems more and more sinister the longer he waits.

And so, he steadies himself, and opens his mouth to speak.

Pain, strong and sudden, engulfs his whole body. For a second, Harry thinks someone placed him under the cruciatus, because he can’t move, can’t see, can’t think.

Until it goes, and he realises he hasn’t moved at all. He hasn’t collapsed or screamed. The people he’s working with haven’t even reacted.

He makes to speak once more, to say what he doesn’t know, when his mouth doesn’t cooperate.

He tries to scream, to move, but nothing happens.

And then, he feels his mouth move without him directing it, hears himself speak in words he hasn’t come up with.

“I’m just going to go to the toilet. If it’s still upright.”

He freezes. There is a strong presence in his head he hadn’t noticed yet, so familiar yet so unnatural. So this is what possession feels like. Strange- he didn’t expect himself to be carried along, able to watch but not act. This is almost worse, but there is opportunity here.

_“Tom.” _He tells the presence, pushing on it with as much power as he can muster_ “Will you be so kind as to GET OUT OF MY HEAD.”_

A high cold voice answers. _“Address me by my name, Potter, or I will make this a lot more difficult and kill a lot more people than I need to. And remember- I am not in your head. Technically, you are in mine.” _

“Maybe you shouldn’t go on your own, Harry” Ron calls out, and Harry realises that he’s halfway to the door. He pushes harder at the presence, trying to wrestle control for just a second to warn them.

“You can come if you want.” Harry’s voice says, sounding almost exactly as Harry would have sounded if he had a choice.

“_So pathetic Potter. I wrestled control from you with a fragment of my soul, it’s like you’re not even trying.”_ With that, the presence pushes back, hard, and Harry loses even more control of his senses. It’s now even an effort to see what his eyes can see. _“I can’t believe I ever marked you as my equal. You think brute force is going to do anything?”_ Another push and his vision fades even more. Harry stops attacking, focusing on keeping what little he has.

Ron is assessing him, squinting almost, and Harry tries once more to reach out. Voldemort squashes it before he can, but Ron still says. “Yeah, I’ll go too. I actually need to piss.”

_“You know that just means one more person I have to kill. You’ve achieved nothing.”_

_“I swear, if you aim my wand at him, I’ll rip myself apart and kill us both.” _Harry tells him feverishly, hoping against hope that he can actually do that.

_“My, my, what empty threats. You don’t know how. And my use for you will soon be redundant anyway.”_

He's changed his mind. This is the scariest thing ever. Harry would rather face of with Voldemort alone in the woods a hundred times over than feel his own body betray him like this. Than know he is leading Ron to his death. He tries desperately to control his path, to keep Ron in the library surrounded by the order, but Voldemort soldiers on, relentless.

Ron looks almost casual, walking just next to Harry with a lazy sort of indifference on his face. If Harry had just met him, he would think Ron was just extremely laid back.

But Ron is his first ever friend and, as unobservant as he is, there are details that could never run past Harry. The hand that twitches slightly towards his wand and the pinkish ears, plus that pure assessing look earlier? No matter how much Voldemort could mimic Harry, he couldn’t _be_ Harry. And maybe Ron could see that.

Now to keep this information away from the person sharing his brain…

If only he’d managed to learn occulamency.

Voldemort seems suddenly curious in the little space Harry occupies, and the presence seems to push closer. And Harry realises a little late that he hasn’t been fighting as much in the last few seconds.

Quickly, desperately, he starts talking to him again.

_“You won’t get away with this. You have a whole room of people who know about you and how you’re here. And they’re all working on getting you out.”_

Amazingly, Lord Voldemort takes the bait- monsters really do love the sound of their own voices. The curious tendrils of what Harry takes for Voldemort’s thoughts withdraw, and the voice in his head laughs.

_“So naive Potter. Did you really think you could remove my soul without wrecking part of yours? This part of me has been here since I tried to kill you. It knows your body and your habits, it is actually a part of you. And ‘I won’t get away with this?’ I already have.”_

The door closes behind them, and within a second, Harry’s hand is gripping his wand.

But Ron is quicker.

“EXPELLIARMUS” Ron bellows before Riddle can even turn around, and Harry’s wand flies out of his hand. Ron glares into Harry’s eyes with a hatred he has never seen before and says: “Now get out of my friends head, bitch”

Harry’s moment of triumph doesn’t last long- pure magic, stronger and more controlled than anything he has produced before, is building in his body, he can feel it. And Voldemort’s fury is terrifying.

Ron needs to start running, or start calling the adults or _something, _but all he is doing is staring, mouth wide open, at Harry.

“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS” Another voice screams behind Harry. Instantly, Harry’s muscles lock up and he falls backwards onto the floor.

Neville, of all people, comes into view. “That’s not Harry is it? Please tell me I didn’t just attack the chosen one”

Harry can’t help but laugh, almost hysterical with relief. Voldemort’s fury makes it even funnier _“First a car accident, now two teenagers who didn’t really put much effort into it. Kind of tarnishes your whole reputation.”_

“No” Ron croaks, looking in horror at Harry’s prone body. He swallows “Voldemort. His soul is in him and he’s taken Harry’s body”

_“You think this can keep me down? A child's curse? Your friends will just suffer later.”_

The wandless magic starts up again, controlled and powerful, travelling up and down the limbs that previously belonged to Harry. It’s almost as if its pushing the spell away, but that isn’t possible.

Is it?

Bit by bit, the jinx is lifting.

Dread courses through Harry, and suddenly, he’s back to trying desperately to regain control. The presence pushes him back, laughing.

Neville’s voice filters its way into his awareness “Do you think Harry is still in there?”

They need to get help, or put another jinx on him or something, but Harry can’t even make a sound.

“Of course” From the corner of his eye, Harry can just about make out the death glare Ron shoots at the other man. Neville places his hands up.

“I’d better get an adult. They can put him in a coma or something.”

Harry silently begs them to hurry up- the jinx has almost completely let up.

“They’re in the library.” Ron sighs “You should take his wand, just in case he somehow summons it. And Neville, um, I’m sorry for accusing you-“

“I get it, trust me. Well, good luck.”

There is the sound of the door opening. Ron’s worried face appears in Harry’s field of vision.

“Listen, mate. I know you’re in there. Please-“ 

Ron doesn’t have time to move before Harry’s hand shoots up and grabs his wand, snatching it away. A second later he is on his feet, somehow managing to look down on the taller man.

Ron, defenceless and terrified though he is, stands his ground. Harry can’t help but feel a little impressed underneath his own wild panic.

“You made a mistake, blood traitor. You should have killed me when you had the chance.” Harry's voice drawls, "Good bye, friend of Potter's. Avada Kedavra"

A green light heads straight for Ron's chest, as strong and fast as a lightning bolt, but Ron is already diving away.

Harry is vaguely aware that he is screaming, even as the light hits the castle wall and fizzles out, and Ron crawls away with wide eyes.

Harry's whole body goes rigid and, before the relief has even sunk in, Voldemort is using his mouth to speak once more. "YOU! Avada-"

He is interrupted by the sound of a door opening and footsteps, shocked whispers and wands being drawn. Voldemort bares Harry's teeth in a grimace, and finally turns his focus away from Ron.

A flick of the wand later, and every single person is flung into the wall.

And Harry, without the aid of a broom, is literally flying though the corridor, out of the broken window and into the dawn.

They land somewhere near the edge of the forest. Harry is hardly aware of it; too wrapped up in fear for his friends. They were flung into the wall as if they were nothing, by a simple, lazy flick of Ron's wand. That wet crunch, the hisses and cries of pain...

It's almost a relief to hear Riddle's smug voice in his head again.

“_I was planning on getting a new body, but, well, people hesitate when I wear yours. This will work well for battle” _He's changed his mind: he'd rather be alone with his thoughts than reminded of his use in this new battle. Voldemort is the tyrant with the hero's face, and Harry is his mask. 

_"You mean you're scared of the car and don't want to go back into the forest." _he replies, because a jab is apparently the only way he can hurt Voldemort now.

_"I'm scared of nothing!" _Riddle growls, and the vicious triumph Harry feels curdling inside him feels natural for once.

It's gone pretty quickly- the malevolent presence around him begins closing in, suffocating him until he can feel himself losing consciousness. He's exhausted by the time Voldemort finally ceases the attack.

"_Just to remind you that I can end you. Any time I like." _The cold voice sounds almost bored

_"Do it" _

_"And lose your knowledge about my enemies?" _

Great- he's the mask and the informant. He _really_ should have died.

_"Don't worry, Potter. The battle will be over soon, and then you can join your parents."_

No matter how hard he fights it, his arm lifts Ron’s wand, and his voice sounds out an incantation he never thought he’d say.

A brilliant light appears in the misty grey sky, the shape of a skull and snake.

And an answering cry echoes from the forest.

A flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and Riddle whips around.

Hermione is running towards them, clutching a stitch in her side with one hand whilst the other tries to keep her wand outstretched. Ron is sprinting about ten meters behind her, eyes wide and terrified.

_“This is the mudblood you associate with, isn’t is Potter?”_ the voice laughs. _“Does she think she’s found a way to kill me? I almost feel sorry for you lot. So blind in hope that you never realise what needs to be done. You should have died the moment you got here Potter. I can’t say I’m upset with the way this has worked out though.”_

Hermione stops a few meters away, chest heaving, and Harry can feel the mouth that doesn’t belong to him anymore twist into a smirk.

_“It’s not even fun when they make themselves such easy targets. A mudblood running after me, Lord Voldemort. Right after I’ve called my death eaters. I knew their kind was dumb, but I did not expect this.”_

His hand grips his wand, and Harry can feel the emotions that are not his begin to churn in his chest in earnest, so strong that it’s difficult to feel anything else. Hate, disgust and a savage sort of delight.

His efforts to regain control become stronger and stronger. He just needs his right hand, so he can drop the wand and give his two best friends time to run. Just for a second...

He’s definitely slowing Voldemort down- the emotions are more frustrated now. He focuses on pushing at the presence in his mind until his surroundings fade.

It happens so fast he almost misses it. Hermione, with wisps of hair loose from her bun framing her drawn face, stops arguing with Ron and lifts her wand.

A burst of green light.

As it hits him, Harry can feel him and Riddle separate, the latter dissipating into the air with a tortured scream.

As Harry’s vision goes black, as his heart stops, as he dies, he wishes that Hermione knew how much of a favour she was doing him.

His most ruthless friend has a consciousness after all, and this may just destroy her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know  
Sorry for leaving it on such a cliff-hanger, I will try and update soon

**Author's Note:**

> so I came up with the idea when I was re-watching the chamber of secrets, and it started off as a joke but morphed into something resembling a story...  
Hope you all enjoyed it :)


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